


1860 One-shots

by Lurking_scarecrow



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Femdom, One Shot, Punishment, Writing Exercise, mouth soaping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-13 11:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurking_scarecrow/pseuds/Lurking_scarecrow
Summary: Experimenting with a new writing style set in a different time.The boys attend a university under strict discipline in the year 1860.Thankful for my friend LadyJaneSlay1554 !
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Toki's disobedience.

Morning. 6 am.  
Although you would not have guessed as the sky was still seemingly grey. The sun refused to shine this early.  
A woman with tan skin and beautiful full dark locks walked through the front doorway of the schoolhouse that sat on the far east side of the campus. Her short heeled laced shoes clacked against the pavement as she stood out.  
She rang a heavy handled bell alerting her students that they needed to make their way to her classroom immediately.  
She rang it loudly, echoing through the school, before walking back into her classroom. The flickering of oil lamps inviting her back inside. 

Misstress. Abigail Remeltindrinc.  
Otherwise known as Misstress Remel, was a strict teacher at the University of Klok. She taught English to the first and second years attending the university. She tolerated nothing except excellence and respect and wasn't afraid to make her pupils learn either of those. 

As her few morning students began to arrive she took a seat at her desk at the front of the room. The wood-burning stove warmed the classroom. They were all thankful for that with fall approaching.  
All 5 of the boys had arrived on time, as expected. Each of them greeted her respectfully, except one who was freshly new and as far as she knew foreign so she couldn't be that upset with him. 

Each of the boys took their seats. 

Nathan Explosion, son of well renowned military alumni, he was a delight to have in class the majority of the time. He was tall and brooding with dark features. He had beautiful green eyes that would make a forest envious.  
He sat up front to the right. 

Behind him was Skwisgaar Skwigelf. He was a foreign exchange student from Sweden, another professor had custody of the ward while he studied here in the states.  
He was quite shy at first especially with his communications, but after working with him privately she showed him he was fully capable of communicating more freely.  
He was a tall thin lad with long blonde locks that he fashioned into a braid most days. He had very lovely blue eyes. 

Seated beside Skwisgaar was Pickles. The mistress quite loved his adorable pitiful face. A sad little boy following in his father's footsteps. She could tell he had been stepped on a lot in life because of his size, midwestern accent, and overall appearance.  
A short redhead with long hair he wore fashioned into a tied ponytail. Neatly. Most days he was very obedient and she rarely had an issue with him. 

Sitting behind Pickles was William Murderface. He was a very troubled young man with a thirst for destruction in every which way he turned. Abigail concluded that the boy just hated his existence. Every occasion she tried to get close to him, he turned her away. His appearance was rather unruly. Thick curly locks, almost wiry. He trimmed it shorter. He had a slight mustache, it suited him. Somewhat stocky appearance. 

Newly seated next to Nathan in the front was Toki Wartooth hailing from Lillehammer Norway. Abigail had somewhat become irritated with the boy on several occasions because he clearly either wasn't very educated or just didn't listen.  
He was quite handsome, she would admit that. Although he appeared to be the youngest, what a tantalizing thought. She should never think about her students in that way. 

Class began. 

She stood and began silently writing sentences on the chalkboard. The only sounds in the room were the chalk connecting with the board and the crackling from the stove. How it should always be unless otherwise.  
She stopped after 5 lines. Each different. 

“Boys, please take out your small boards and find the problems with each of these sentences.” She told them firmly. “After you are done please sit with your hands folded to signify you are done after you will share aloud.”

She sat at her desk as the boys quickly went to work. She watched them each. Nathan sounding out words. Skwisgaar hooked on some punctuation. William struggling a little, typical of him. Pickles was done first. Toki looked unsure of what she had asked of him. 

“Toki.” She called “Are you having problems?”

Her voice interjecting was the only sound in the room. It slightly frightened all of them. Her voice was so firm and it never shook, even a little.  
Toki looked at her with lax eyes, as if he wasn't concerned with what was happening. 

“No ams not havings problems.” He answered back in almost an annoyed tone. 

Every other boy in the room gulped a little as their eyes widened. 

Her eyes narrowed at the Norwegian. She glared at the rest of the class. 

“Back to your work, Toki, come with me.” She raised her tone just a little. 

She stood up. Her black thick dress cascading around her legs thickly as she walked. You could barely see her feet. But her heels clanking against the wooden floor were firm and frightening. Walking back into a small room in the schoolhouse, a washroom, the one light in that particular schoolhouse. She pulled the string hanging from the ceiling. A small bulb flickered to life. Toki walked back into the room, she closed the door behind him. 

“Toki.”

“Yes.”

“Toki, its yes ma'am.” She corrected him.

“‘Yes, ma'am?” He returned unsurely. 

She was becoming more and more frustrated. She understood he was foreign and unaware of some customs but she had shown him the ways of her classroom several times. 

“Toki, after class you are going to stay seated until I say otherwise.” She told him firmly. “Do you understand that young man?”

He pouted and nodded “Yes ma'am.” 

“Very good, you may go back and be seated now.” She nodded. 

He bowed and left the small room, returning to his seat quickly. His chest felt tight as he looked back down at his chalkboard. The other boys were a tad anxious, they knew they also had to be on their best behavior unless they also wanted to land themselves into a fix of trouble. 

A small amount of time passed before each boy followed suit to show that they were finished with their work. All following her order by sitting with their hands folded onto their desks.  
She called on each of them to share a sentence and find what the error was within it. Nathan went first, then Skwisgaar, Pickles, Toki and William. 

Each of them did well, she was thankful for this. 

Now it was time for their lecture. They needed to sit quietly in their seats while she spoke to each of them aloud. She read to them from a few textbooks while writing on the chalkboard. Explaining the roots of words and where they come from.  
Explaining where the prefix ‘para’ or ‘non’ come from and their meanings.  
It was a basic and easy lesson. She taught until she heard the chapel bells ringing. Signifying that they each needed to head for their next class. 

Nathan, Pickles, William, and Skwisgaar were all excused from the room. Affectionately saying they would see her tomorrow. She smiled at each. Her eyes now laying upon the dirty blonde Norweigen who sat in the middle. His face somewhat distraught, a red blush growing across his face. She crossed her arms. 

“Toki, do you not respect me, young man?” She asked flatly. 

“Nei, I do!” He defended himself. 

“Who told you to answer me?” She grit her teeth 

He gulped and looked down at his desk. He nodded sadly. 

“Toki, I want you to come to the front of my classroom and stand with your nose to the chalkboard.” she told him firmly “NOW.” 

He immediately stood and walked to the front of the room, his heart racing and his face red with embarrassment. He stood like a child with his nose to the wall, facing the chalkboard. She told him not to move as she left the room for a short minute. 

Although she left, someone else entered. 

Firm, heavy footsteps heard behind Toki. Slowly approaching and circling him. 

“My, my, someone misbehaved for the Mistress did they?” A raspy voice chuckled lowly. “I came to put more coals on the stove, but I suppose I could stay for the show.” 

Toki gulped and whined quietly. 

“Magnus get away from him.” Abigail scolded coming back towards the front of the room, holding a small bucket of water. “If I need you I’ll let you know, which we both know I won't.” 

The man scoffed and took his leave after fixing the coals. 

Toki’s anxiety rose. He had never met Magnus. But he had heard quite a lot of horror stories from the others about the man. He was a professor of medieval literature and some history, but also he was the school's disciplinarian.  
Pickles told him how his older brother Seth received a severe cold caning from Magnus for smoking a fag on school property.  
Toki prayed silently that he would not be punished in that way for disrespecting the Misstress. 

“Toki.” She said flatly “Come to me.” 

He turned to the woman sitting at her desk. A piece of chalk. A small tin bucket of water. A green bar of lye soap. 

“Toki, I have never tolerated even the slightest ounce of disrespect in my classroom and it will not start anytime soon,” She told him “It begins with your behavior, and it ends here.” 

She pointed down at the soap. 

“Yes, ma'am.” He gulped quietly, shaking a tad. 

“I’m going to wet this soap and you are going to hold it in your mouth all while you write 50 times at the board.” She instructed him. “You will write ‘I know disrespect is not tolerated’ understand?” 

He nodded. 

She wasted no time. Rolling up her sleeves slightly and dipping the soap in the water she lathered it a tad. Toki opened his mouth for her to insert it in. He bit down onto it. The flavor was horrendous, he had his mouth washed out with soap as a child. Now having it done at 18, it was humiliating, but he would take this over a caning or switching anyway. 

She placed the chalk in his hand and pointed at the chalkboard. 

“If I find one mistake, or your penmanship lacks, I will smack the back of your palms with a ruler.” She scolded “Get to it, young man.” 

Toki nodded, quickly beginning to write over and over again. 

Disrespect is not tolerated.  
Disrespect is not tolerated.  
Disrespect is not tolerated. 

Drool began to trickle down off of his chin and onto his neck from holding the soap in his mouth. The disgusting flavor had caused him to form tears in the creases of his eyes over time. He could not let his hand waiver. He needed to persist, he could not mess up. 

Abigail watched the boy write it over, and over, and over again. So adorable how obedient and small he became so fast.  
She knew he was coming close to 50.

“When you are done, go stand in the corner while I review your sentences Toki.” She called. 

Toki nodded. He looked miserable as he wrote it out a 47th time.

Disrespect is not tolerated.  
Disrespect is not tolerated.  
Disrespect is not tolerated. 

Done. 

He placed the chalk down on the sill of the chalkboard and walked over to the corner, hanging his head. His mouth was numb from the disgusting flavor of the soap. His nose was running a tad. 

Abigail stood up and began reviewing all of Toki’s sentences. They looked the same. Cursive and acceptable. She decided he had, had enough for now. 

“Toki, come.” She called from the front. 

The Norwegian quickly came to her side obediently. She removed the soap and placed it in the bucket. She took a cloth from her desk and handed it to Toki. 

“Please clean yourself up before you head to your next class, understand?” She asked him. 

“Yes, ma'am, thank you, ma'am.” He nodded, bowing to her. 

“You are excused.”


	2. Skwisgaar's daily chores.

Early morning. 5 am.   
A small alarm clock rung lightly before a pale hand reached out between blankets and grabbing it. He shut it off before sighing grimly. 

Skwisgaar stood up out of his bed and stretched. He was not ready to wake up but he had to if he wanted to get all of his chores done before he was sent off to school. He was thankful it wasn't Sunday and at the very least he didn't have to attend mass.

He began dressing in his casual clothes so he could work comfortably before changing into his school uniform. A white cotton button-down shirt, grey trousers and black suspenders to keep his pants up. He tied his long blonde hair into a ponytail of some sort before starting his day.   
Every day he had the same chores and they were to be done on time, weather permitting, every day before school. Just as most children and young people had. 

Feed the chickens. Collect eggs. Bring in water. Sweep off the porch. Fill the woodbox. 

After these were done, then he was able to sit down and eat a bit with his guardian, Professor. Charles Offdensen. They pray together then they would eat a small but filling breakfast of bread, milk, and eggs. Somedays Skwisgaar wouldn't want to eat everything, but Charles would insist he does. 

Skwisgaar left the house with a woven basket he had filled the night previously with feed for the chickens. He walked up to the hen house and opened a small gate, allowing the chickens to run about. He tossed their feed up into the air around the areas they would flock. The round foul began pecking at the ground for their feed. Skwisgaar began sifting around in the hen house.

His hand would gloss over the straw feeling for an egg or two. He would usually find them quickly considering there were only 8 chickens. He collected a couple and placed them gently in the basket. He had never broken an egg but he would hate to punished by his guardian for such a careless mistake. 

Skwisgaar happily brought them inside to Charles who was sitting at the table. An oil lamp lit by his side so he could finish grading the papers he had been given from the night before. Charles thanked him and sent him off to finish his chores.

Skwisgaar grabbed the large tin bucket from behind the kitchen door. He carried it back outside to pump water into it. He placed it down at the end of the faucet. He quickly began to pull the pump. It seemed as if it was getting easier for him at least. Water quickly began flowing into the bucket. He waited until it was decently full and carried it inside. Placing it back onto the kitchen floor. 

Next, he had to sweep off the porch. Skwisgaar went out onto the porch of the front of his current home and took the broom from under the deck. The porch seemed to collect leaves, sticks, and nuts so quickly from all the trees that decorated around the home. He began brushing them off onto the lawn with the broom. 

Soon it was clear once again. 

He put the broom back underneath the porch. The sky was finally starting to get a little lighter. He had been able to see but not as easily. 

He climbed down the steps, walking toward the outhouse which is where the wood was stacked up. Skwisgaar gathered enough to carry in his arms, hoping there wouldn't be a spider in the bundle like there was last time. He carefully walked back up the steps and entered into the home, placing the wood in the box for later. 

“Oh good, you're back.” Charles called from the kitchen “Come uh, sit for breakfast.” 

Skwisgaar brushed off his shirt from the firewood and quickly paced to where Charles had called out to him. The oil lamp still burning brightly. Charles poured a glass of milk for him and sat down a plate of toast and eggs. Skwisgaar thanked him as he licked his lips.   
Charles sat next to him with the same plate but a cup of black coffee. 

Skwisgaar remembered to bow his head and fold his hands in his lap. He and Charles silently prayed together thanking their Lord for the food they were given. Charles began cutting his eggs and popping some into his mouth. 

“How are your classes going?” Charles asked, he already knew, but he figured he would let Skwisgaar tell him. 

“They ams goings wells, I amments failings anythings.” Skwisgaar grinned drinking his milk. 

“Are you doing better now that you have been here for a few months?” Charles asked taking a sip of coffee. 

“Ja, ams happys to be heres.” He nodded “Thanks you agains for takings me ins.” 

“It is my pleasure.” Charles chuckled a bit. 

They continued to eat together and discuss things. Charles was happy to take Skwisgaar in. He was a middle-aged man with nobody to talk to when he got home for a long time. After teaching and advancing in his career for so long, he just never settled down. So he was happy to have Skiwsgaar’s company. Charles very rarely ever had to punish or scold him, and he was always in high spirits. Charles would listen to his tales about Sweden and it would help him forget his loneliness. 

Skwisgaar also very much enjoyed Charles’s company. Back home in Sweden his mother didn't appreciate him or talk to him very much. She was always scouting other men who weren't ready to court. Unholy. Skwisgaar didn't like it, and he did not like that he was a product of it.   
She eventually met someone with a lot of money who wanted her all to himself, so they shipped Skwisgaar to the States. Skwisgaar was thankful for Charles. He felt the man cared and listened to him. While he was strict, Skwisgaar didn't mind. As long as he did as he was told he would be spared from a switching. 

They finished, placed their dishes in the bucket of water to soak for later when they came home. Skwisgaar would wash them while Charles would cook. 

“I'll be leaving a little bit so go put your uniform on,” Charles told him. 

Skwisgaar nodded and began to walk back to his room. He liked the room he had here in America. It was decently sized about the length and width of two church pews. Charles originally didn't have anything in there so it was no trouble for him. Skwisgaar had a nice cozy bunk, an armoire and a bedside table with books, an alarm clock, and a vase. 

He began dressing into his school uniform. Black slacks, the same white button-down shirt, a vest with buttons and an overcoat. He didn't like this uniform. It was so tight and conformed to his body. It was also sorta heavy. 

He closed his door behind himself and went back to meet Charles. He grabbed his school bag off of a hook in the hallway. 

Charles was dressed similar to Skwisgaar but instead with a blazer and a grey shirt. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asked the blonde 

“Ja, sir, ams ready to go.” Skwisgaar nodded 

Charles opened the front door for his ward and locked the door behind them. They walked out into the cool autumn air together. The sky had lightened up a tad more since Skwisgaar noticed earlier. As they walked, they noticed that the leaves bad began changing more overnight. They enjoyed their walk as they happily chatted all the way to the university.


	3. Brothers Quarrel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, my beloved punishment chapter.

It started as a minor disagreement among brothers but as it progressed on it became an all-out brawl between two very childishly seeming men. Pickles had a fistful of Seth’s hair and Seth had Pickles pinned down by his shoulders. Their bodies sore from wrestling in the grass on the very outskirts of the university property. Out where the gardens were.   
A typical spot for Seth and his hooligan friends to frequent, unfortunately, this was a day that Pickles would come out here to study.   
Seth had never been a good older brother to the younger. Constantly teasing him about his hair color and his short stature, among other things. Today was no exception. Pickles came to the garden to find a quiet place to read his assigned literature book. Unfortunately, Seth and his friends began to mercilessly taunt and bully his younger brother. When Pickles finally told him and his friends to leave him alone, Seth pushed the redhead down onto the grass. 

During the fight, Seth had finally exhausted Pickles and got a good punch in on his face. Pickles' nose instantly drew blood as it dripped down trailing to his chin. Seth wound back for another on his poor, little brother. A raspy angry voice shouted at them. 

“You two had better stop this barbaric non-sense at once!” Magnus raised his tone as he approached the squabbling brothers. 

He reached and grabbed Seth, yanking him off of Pickles. He stood Pickles up, the bloody little mess. Clutching both of their ears and marched them back to the campus and immediately into his office. He didn't wait to sit down, he just started yelling at both of them. 

“There is no excuse either of you spoiled brats could give me to justify what I just witnessed.” Magnus scolded “Both of you are in serious trouble, I will be writing your father about this incident!” 

“Nah, nah please Mr. Hammersmit’ don’t write our fodder!” Pickles pleaded 

“Please Mr. Hammersmit, it was justa’ little fight, brodders bicker all da’ time!” Seth pleaded holding his ear. 

“Don't either of you try to weasel with me, I know bad behavior when I see it and if a letter to your father going home can change that then it is happening!” Magnus yelled at both of them. “You, go to the infirmary and get cleaned up, as for you Seth we will be punishing you now.” 

“Ah, yes sir.” Seth sighed 

Pickles left the room to go get the blood cleaned off of his face. 

“You have been down this road before, Seth.” Magnus turned to the brunette. 

“Yes sir, I have.” Seth looked away and down at his shoes. 

“You know, I don't have the luxury of having a sibling.” He began gritting his teeth “But I must say, you young man, are a horror of an older brother.” 

“Y-yes, sir.” Seth agreed 

“That is not a good thing, you brat, that's your younger brother you should protect him and guide him not throw him to the ground.” Magnus scolded selecting a hickory styled livestock cane “Your father pays for both of you to attend our university for education and comfort, not to fool around as such!” 

Magnus tapped his desk with the cane. 

Seth gulped, trembling slightly. 

“H-how many em’ I gettin’ sir?” Seth asked, his voice shaking a tad. 

“You prissy little lamb, I should lash your bottom and thighs until they bleed as badly as your brother's nose.” Magnus scoffed, bending the cane “Take down your trousers and undergarments, bend over my desk NOW.” 

Seth obeyed quickly. He did not want to upset Mr. Hammersmith anymore after that threat. He was, after all, very threatening. Seth undid the buttons of his trousers, hoisting them down next came his undergarments which he pulled down to his knees, exposing him inside Mr. Hammersmith’s office. He leaned over the desk. His firm, round bottom ready for punishing. 

Magnus wasted no time, he patted Seth's bottom with the cane before delivering a harsh thwack. Seth bit his wrist in an attempt not to cry out loudly. Magnus had been doing this for a long time. He knew exactly how to break down a ‘man’ into a sniveling little boy in a matter of minutes. All it took was proper discipline like the boy's father should have done a long time ago. 

The hall outside of Magnus’s office echoed. 

THWACK.

THWACK.

THWACK.

Seth cried out along the 10th or 11th lash. Gasping for air as angry little tears forced themselves out from the corners of his eyes. 

“Think of this next time you want to act out in my school again little boy!” Magnus yelled fueling another lash across Seth’s bottom. “I've had to pull you in here a couple of times, one more and its the strap!” 

Seth bawled like a child. His fight was gone. He couldn't feel anything except the horrible sting of the cane on his exhausted bottom. He knew he would deep, ugly bruised welts for at least a week. Sitting would be such a chore. Especially when they would need to attend mass. 

THWACK. 

THWACK. 

Magnus stopped and looked over Seth’s thoroughly punished behind. Deep red, purple welts covering both of his cheeks. Magnus was satisfied with this. He collected the cane and put it away. 

“You may collect yourself and go to your dorm, you will be grounded to your room for the rest of the day,” Magnus told him firmly. 

Seth could barely make out the words Magnus was saying, he just nodded through his sobs. He sloppily dressed and quickly took his leave, rushing to get to his room before anyone could see that he was clearly in distress. 

Magnus took a seat at his desk and waited for the redhead to return. He tinkered a bit with his oil lamp, sitting it back where it was.   
Pickles returned. 

“Take a seat, Pickles,” Magnus said flatly. 

Pickles took a seat across from Magnus. He was obviously quite scared. He had never been punished by him, or anyone for that matter. The redhead just wanted to be a good boy, but now he had found himself in the last place he wanted to see. 

The Disciplinarian's office. 

“Pickles, I know that you were not the cause of that altercation.” Magnus sighed “However, I know you fought back with your childish brother and for that, you will also be punished.”

“Ah, M’sorry Mr. Hammersmith..” Pickles bit his lip and looked away. 

“I will not be nearly as severe or..” Magnus rolled his eyes “Be mentioning to your father that you were at all at fault in the altercation.” 

Pickles' eyes lit up with appreciation. 

“Thank you, sir.” Pickles nodded. 

Magnus stood up. 

“Very well, onto your punishment.” He announced, “Drop your trousers and bend over the desk.”

Pickles fuddled with his buttons for a moment, nervous, but not as much as before. He was not thrilled he was being punished for the first time, but he was very thankful Mr. Hammersmith wasn't telling his father. Pickles bend over the desk, his undergarments still on. 

Magnus picked up a decent wooden ruler. He patted Pickles's bottom with it before giving him a good smack. Pickles bit his lip, trying not to react. 

Magnus gave another good smack. 

Pickles winced. 

Smack. 

Smack. 

Smack.

Pickles grit his teeth slightly trying not to react. 

Smack. 

Smack.

Smack. 

Magnus was never really the sympathetic type. Quite frankly he wanted to cane Pickles as well. But he pitied him. He pitied how short Pickles was compared to all his other male students and how hard he studied only to be beaten down by his elder brother. Magnus continued whacking his bottom with the ruler. 

Pickles showed a slight reaction as tears began to slowly collect in the corners of his eyes. He sniffled some. 

After 30 or 40 decent smacks, Magnus stopped. 

“Collect yourself and go to your dorm, just as your brother you will be grounded for the night to your room,” Magnus told him firmly. 

Pickles nodded. “Y-yes, Mr. Hammersmit..” 

Magnus left the room to get back onto his schedule, as of now he was behind on. Pickles quickly began dressing, picking up his trousers and buttoning them. He wiped his sorry little face off. As he was leaving, however, something caught his eye. Pickles looked around for a moment to make sure nobody was coming before moving the papers from Mr. Hammersmith’s appointment book around slightly. His eyes widened as to what he saw. 

A small noise from down the hall, Pickles quickly left the room. He dashed back to his dorm. His chest felt tight, he didn't know what to say about what he had just seen!

Pickles walked up the stairs in the dorms. His heart pounded as he arrived at his door. Opening it, he pressed his back against the door to close it behind him. Pickles sunk down quietly. 

What gossip. What a mystery.   
Who could he tell? Could he tell anyone?  
Would anyone believe him?

Under the papers in Mr. Hammersmith’s appointment book was a gritty black and white photo.  
Of Misstress Abigail.


	4. Outing with Ms. Abigail

A heavy sigh left Nathan’s chest as he narrowed his eyes at passing strangers. 

His mother's arm laced through his inner elbow as he escorted her through town so she could do some shopping. Rose was thrilled her little boy would be accompanying her just like he used to do. Although he wasn't very little anymore. He was quite sizable. Rose had even chosen what outfit and style he wore his hair that day. Long grey trousers, a dark blue button-down with black suspenders and his hair tied in a loose ribbon. Showing off his face as she would say. Although she wished he would cut his hair already. None the less. It made her feel quite giddy. She found herself missing when Nathan was young again, she wasn't fortunate to have more children. A lot of her attention was focused on Nathan. 

“I'm so thankful you're home from university for the weekend Nathan.” She grinned “I have been missing you so much since you started, how are your studies going dear?”

“They are going fine, mother,” Nathan answered back to her. 

“Are you making friends with anyone else?” She asked 

“I have made a few.” He responded 

As they walked through town, a heavy horse-drawn carriage had strolled by. Out stepping in front of a tailors shop, was Misstress Abigail. She had waved goodbye to someone as the horse began clopping away with the carriage. Nathan's mother grinned recognizing her. 

“Ohh Misstress Abigail!” She called waving her hand out, practically dragging Nathan behind her. 

Her slender face turned to Rose and smiled. 

“Hello Mrs. Explosion, how are you?” She welcomed her greeting warmly “Outdoing some shopping today?”

“Yes, of course, I am always a fan of window shopping.” Rose laughed “Are you alone today? Care to join us?” 

Nathan felt his chest tighten. He hoped she would say no. In the back of his mind, Nathan always secretly had a bit of a crush on Mistress Abigail. Although she was slightly older than him and had a focus on her career, he still thought about her quite a bit. He dreads the thought of his obnoxious mother embarrassing him in front of her. 

“I think I will if it isn't too much trouble.” Abigail nodded in response. “I’d love to, Mrs. Explosion.”

“Ohh it is no trouble at all, please call me Rose!” She laughed “Nathan, for Christ’s sake, do not be rude say hello!”

“Hello, Ms. Abigail.” He said flatly. 

“Good evening Nathan, it is nice to see you escorting your mother around.” Abigail raised an eyebrow “Enjoying yourself?” 

Nathan nodded. 

The trio began walking down the main street together. Horse-drawn carriages loading and unloading couples, families and such to do their routines. A brick-paved street with dozens of shops and businesses surrounding them. Close lines and awnings. People opening their windows to shake their rugs. 

It was a busy time at the weekend. 

A shop caught Rose’s eye and she and Abigail walked over to it. Nathan of course following. Beautiful dresses with patterns and lacy undergarments to be shown off in the front window. Rose fixated on them as if her husband didn't spoil her enough with all the clothing she had already owned. 

“Ohh Abigail you would look gorgeous in that one!” Rose gestured towards a lilac toned evening gown with a fluffed outskirt. Black lace tied around the hoop of the skirt, corset, and breast. 

“That is much too flashy for me, I have no reason to wear anything like that.” A blush crept over her tanned face as she saw the beautiful dress. 

It was lovely, and she would look stunning in it. Here as she stood out in front of the store in a blue button-down long sleeve shirt, long grey skirt, non-fashionable bloomers, and typical shoes. Her hair was done up in a bun. It had been a long time since she had felt a need a dress up for anything. Because of her career, she preferred more functional things rather than fashionable or eye-catching. 

Nathan nodded in agreement with his mother. He thought she would look beautiful in the dress. Then again, she could wear a potato sack and he would find her alluring. Az 

“My apologies, I forgot to ask.” Rose laughed “What are you shopping for today anyway?” 

“A few things, mostly just here to get away from the university for a little while.” Abigail smiled “What about you?” 

“Well Oscar needs some things, I can always shop and Nathan needs-” She was cut off 

“Mother.” He whined 

“Ohh I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Rose chuckled at her son's embarrassment. “Would you like to go in here or would you like to visit another store?” 

“If you need something in here or would just like to look I’m happy to go in with you.” Abigail nodded. 

They all went in together to look at the garments. It was quite the department store. Lots of mannequins dressed to the 9’s as for some were just in more casual attire. A couple tailors quietly sewing and hemming as people shopped. 

Abigail looked at a couple of bonnets. Rose looked at some of the male wares for Oscar and Nathan browsed for some -cough- unmentionables for himself. Although now he would probably wait to buy them considering Misstress Abigail was accompanying them. 

Rose came up to Abigail while she looked at some of the bonnets and headwear. Abigail looked at a pink headpiece with a lacy scarf. 

“That would look beautiful on you,” Rose commented watching Abigail pick through things. 

“Thank you, but it is just not practical for me to own something like this.” She smirked 

“Tell me, Ms. Abigail, why is it that you have not tried to catch someone's eye, and please do not assume I am at all giving you any judgment.” Rose began “You are a lovely young woman, you would make someone very happy.” 

“My career is very important to me, I do not even think about it in all honesty.” She sighed “Although lately..” 

Rose stood with the young woman who seemed quite unsure of the way she felt about things. Could she entrust Rose with something she had been feeling? Something she had been hiding? She only knew her through brief visits with Oscar to the school in regards to Nathan. 

Would Rose judge her for the way she felt? Would she be offended that she had a slight interest in something other than providing the students, her son, their education?

At the end of the day, Abigail didn't have many friends, but she did have thoughts she would like to share with anyone who would listen. A teacher's life is sometimes a lonely one when you have nobody to vent to. 

Rose gave her a warm smile. A mother’s smile. 

“Please, do not force yourself to tell me anything you aren't comfortable sharing with me.” Rose whispered to her “I know you must feel like you need to keep up some kind of profile to me as one of your student's mothers, but we ladies need to stick out for one another.”

“Thank you very much, Rose, I appreciate that very much.” Abigail let out a heavy breath. 

Abigail looked around to see if Nathan was anywhere near them. She saw him all the way across the store watching the tailors hem pants for clients. Odd. But he was probably bored. 

“He is a bit of a buffoon sometimes I know.” Rose laughed covering her mouth, she picked out a yellow hat with lace and a cotton flower on the rim. “Now this was made for you!” 

Rose handed the headpiece to Abigail and she tried it on. A shopkeeper instantly saw the two women glossing over the headpieces and walked over. He brought a hand mirror to show Abigail how lovely she looked, hopefully making a sale of course. 

“You were born to wear this color, it compliments your hair so nicely!” He announced, holding the hand mirror up to here “Do you not see how well the color compliments your skin tone?” 

Rose nodded agreeing with the shopkeeper. 

“Ohh, well, I suppose you're right” Abigail blushed looking into the mirror at herself. 

“I’ll let you ladies talk amongst yourselves, I’ll leave this for your use.” The shopkeeper left the hand mirror for them. He walked away back to attend to other customers. 

“Abigail that looks adorable on you!” Rose exclaimed, “You have got to have that!” 

“I have no reason to own this.” She sighed 

“Now, now do not be so stubborn, in fact.” Rose paused “I’ll purchase it for you.” 

“Ohh, Rose, please you do not need to do that.” Abigail protested. 

“Non-sense, it is the least I can do for you considering you're my son's teacher.” Rose insisted “Nathan, Nathan!” 

Rose called Nathan from across the store like a child. Other customers looked around as the obnoxious woman called out for Nathan. Thinking they would see a child walking towards her, not a grown man. Nathan blushed and began walking towards her. 

“Yes, mother?” He asked heavy in his tone. 

“Nathan doesn't Ms.Abigail look beautiful in this bonnet?” Rose pointed towards his teacher. 

He turned to her. Her head tied into a lovely creamish yellow bonnet. It framed her jawline perfectly. Showing off her flawless face. Complimenting her rich tan skin. Nathan’s blush deepened, he looked down at the floor.   
How inappropriate of his mother to ask that of him. What are mothers for?

“Yes.” He answered flatly.

Abigail smiled as a slight redness tinted her cheeks. 

“Thank you, Nathan, that is very kind of you.” She nodded 

Rose paid for the bonnet and a few other things. The shopkeeper, happy to of made the sale, placed the bonnet in a hatbox. He thanked them for shopping at their store and sent them on their way. The streets were beginning to thin out as it was becoming late. Looking towards the town clock Abigail knew her carriage back to the university would be arriving soon to take her back to the university.

“Thank you so much for such a wonderful gift Rose, I cannot express how much I appreciate it.” Abigail expressed to her. 

“It is my pleasure.” Rose nodded “Thank you for providing the education that you do to boys like mine.” 

She pinched Nathan's cheek. He sighed. 

“It was nice seeing both of you today, I’ll see you in class on Monday Nathan.” Abigail smiled “Please be safe on your travels home, bye for now.” 

“You as well, nice seeing you!” Rose responded, “Have a good evening!” 

“See you on Monday, Misstress Abigail.” Nathan waved her off. 

Abigail began walking back through the city streets to where she was dropped off. Weaving and combing through groups of people making their way out of town. She clutched onto the hatbox. Her chest warm with appreciation that Rose had bought the bonnet for her. Her stomach was full of butterflies. Thoughts racing in her mind. 

As she arrived at the spot she had been let off on, she could quickly see her carriage had already arrived. 

“Pardon me for being late, I had gotten caught up with friends.” She apologized entering the carriage. 

“‘Tis quite alright, Misstress.” Responded to the buggy driver “Please getcha’ self situated and I’ll take ya ‘ome.” 

Abigail quickly fixed herself in the back. Sitting comfortably in the seat whilst she held the box in her lap. 

As the carriage started moving, she felt her body tense up again. Her hands clutching onto the box. She did like the way her face looked in the bonnet. It made her joyful to know that Rose and Nathan did as well. Even more so that Rose even bought it for her. Such a nice woman. 

“Perhaps..” She thought to herself “It would have been nice to confide in someone.”

She appreciated that they thought the bonnet looked so nice on her, but she thought about her appearance in someone else's eyes.

She clutched the box more, biting her lip slightly. How the bonnet would look on her in his eyes.

Dare she say in..

Magnus’ eyes.


	5. Skwisgaar's Misfortunes PT1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skwisgaar attempts to sneak out against Charles's wishes.   
Part 1 of 3.

“A lives stocks shows?” Skwisgaar asked lifting his brow slightly. “Whats ams that?”

“Itsh thish really cool event that happensch in town!” Murderface grinned widely “I’m putting a few of MY animalsh in it too!” 

“Yeah!” Pickles exclaimed excitedly “We are all goin’ to see his animals in da’ show so you need to come wit’ us!” 

Skwisgaar looked away and thought for a moment. He was thrilled they were inviting him as he had very few friends for a long time since he had come to America. Although many were not so thrilled with his presence as a foreigner, he had managed to find decent classmates to call friends. It excited him to be invited to a social affair in town! 

However…

“Whens ams you is goings?” Skwisgaar grinned awkwardly. 

“Itsh tonight, we are meeting with at 7 in front of the fountain downtown.” Murderface told him “It goesh on until 9!”

Skwisgaar gulped and nodded. “Ams haves to asks, but hopefully am sees you later.” 

The boys parted and went on their separate ways. 

-End of the School Day-

The tall blonde walked home through the university gates. He walked alone in this direction because most of the other students living in the dorms, whereas he lived with a teacher. The trees lining the paths back to the teacher's board were becoming different shades of red. Autumn was approaching, perhaps that was the reason for this festival he had been invited too. 

As he walked up the way to Professor Offdensen's house he sighed quietly. Opening the door, he was inside in the sitting room. A satchel of papers, books, etc on the floor next to him. Skwisgaar looked away so his eyes didn't meet with the Professors. Quite nervous about asking.

Charles looked up at him. The blonde turned pink in the face as he clutched his bag quietly. 

“What's wrong?” Charles asked, “Did something happen at school?”

“No amments nothings happens at schools.” Skwisgaar answered 

“Then why are you uh, standing there like that?” Charles asked, “Did you start your reading assignment for Mr. Hammersmith?”

“Ja, ams starts it sir.” Skwisgaar muttered 

“Skwisgaar what is going on?” Charles asked rubbing his temples 

“Ams has a question.” Skwisgaar admitted 

“Okay uh, sure what is it?” Charles asked, closing his book. 

“Ams was invited to an events in towns, wants your permiskions to go.” Skwisgaar asked “It ams a livestocks shows, Willams Murderface invites me to goes with ams his friends.”

“A livestock show tonight, with those hooligans?” Charles scrunched his nose “Absolutely not.” 

“But Professor Offdensen, ament you lookings for a new roosters for thems chickens?” Skwisgaar pleaded “Havents been invited to anythings since I comes to America..”

“I’ll consider it.” Charles sighed flatly “Now go to your room and finish your reading.”

Skwisgaar sighed and nodded as he left the room. 

The blonde walked across the house and began strutting up the stairs. He was slightly irritated. Charles wouldn't consider it. Skwisgaar knew better than that. The professor would just want the swede tucked away in his room for the night instead of having any real fun. Charles was weirdly overprotective over his presence in the home. Although Skwisgaar enjoyed having a male figure in his life, he didn't appreciate it when it wasn't convenient. 

Skwisgaar walked into his room and closed the door just before closing. Another thing the professor was super weird about, he wasn't allowed to close his door. 

Every time he turned a corner it was another wall of rules he had to follow otherwise he would face punishment and scolding. 

He slinked down onto his bed and folded his legs in front of himself. Pulling his book out from his school bag, he opened to where he had left off. Skimming over the words, reading them, sure, but not absorbing what anything meant. His mind was elsewhere. His thoughts were taken. He sighed and closed the book. 

Skwisgaar wanted to go to the Livestock show. He wanted to have friends and go out onto the town, not for tomfoolery, but the company of his peers. Was that so much?  
Why were they, hooligans? They went to his school, they were in his class. Could his friends be that bad?   
Charles was just smothering sometimes it seemed. Skwisgaar wished he could make his own decisions for once. 

Sneak out.

He stopped for a moment. Where were his thoughts headed? 

Sneak out.   
The professor goes to sleep at 8, you will be out and back before he knows. 

Skwisgaar shook his head. As if he had a small devil on his shoulder. But the thoughts kept pouring in. Disobedience. Disrespect. Could he even handle it? 

What was the worst that could happen?

Skwisgaar threw his book onto his pillow and sighed into his hands. The Livestock show. His friends. His reading. His school. His guardian. His home. 

All of the stress was riling him up more and more. 

The Livestock Show? Tonight? At 7?  
He would be there. 

The blonde stood up, he grabbed his satchel and began dumping its contents into his top dresser drawer. Emptying the space. Sifting through another drawer he fished out a decent sized wad of cash and a jar of coins. Money from his mother and her lover for him in the States. He wouldn't bring a lot of money with him. Perhaps enough for a small souvenir. Throwing a little into the satchel. He would have to be ready to sneak out because it would be dark before he returned. He would also need to bring a portable oil lamp, otherwise, he would never be able to find his way home. 

The entire idea made his chest tight and breathes short. His ears felt a little warm. Nobody except for him knew about his secret adventure. But it shouldn't have to be a secret. It isn't a big deal. 

All of these plans were not like him. But he was still a teenager after all. Maybe it wasn't so abnormal for him to attempt to act a little on the wild side. 

Just a little.


End file.
